Primal Parasite
by Banisters
Summary: When your options are clear, do you hold on to what you can barely remember or accept a new way of life that you hate?Rated M for strong suggestions.
1. Ralph's Refusal

For an entire month, the fair-haired boy known as Ralph had gone without being touched. Not in any considerably inappropriate way, but the casual gestures he had grown accustomed to throughout the twelve years of his life. For instance, simple pats on the shoulder or friendly handshakes were way beyond anything the adolescent could imagine. Any recollections of what human contact felt like were seemingly gone from his memory.

Suspicion had developed in his head in recent weeks, driving him into periods of silent speculation: _What if the other boys knew how he was feeling?_ They too must be going through the same thing that he was. _They had to be longing for the comfort of each other's touch as well, right? _It was when he arrived at those thoughts that Ralph found himself beginning to understand the manners of Jack and his hunters. Unlike him and the few others who had chosen to remain civilized, the hunters did not appear to be miserable. Fright wiggled into fair boy's brain like a parasite, latching itself onto t he introspection he'd faithfully devoted his time to. _Would his need for human contact drive him into savagery, just like the other boys? Would he begin to resemble them because of his need for physical belonging and happiness?_

The parasite, with grooves of persuasion hooking onto every refusal the boy could toss out, began its conquest. It pumped venom of unwanted ideas into Ralph's mind. The first round of sickly poison tried to convince him that Jack was not vicious in any way, shape, or form. The fear tried to prove that in spite of the violence that escorted his actions, Jack was merely seeking out what Ralph was craving. This concept was so outrageous that he could hardly believe it, but the leech-like notions of fear concealed any skepticism he held within himself.

Later, as if to support the efforts of the parasite, Maurice clued him in on some information about his tribe. _The hunts they carried out were not just a way to get food._ If the goal had been to fill their stomachs, then they would have done so with less brutality. But that was not the case. The contentment was not directed towards their hunger, but a desire for contact. They always leapt upon the pigs together, letting their elbows touch and their hands collide for a chance to tear apart the flesh of the swine.

"It's subtle, you know? We all just sort of smash into each and act like we don't notice it." Maurice looked away in an attempt to save himself from the teasing he expected from Ralph, but the fair boy remained straight faced. "No one admits to liking it…In _that_ way, I mean. Everyone talks about how great it feels to kill and be powerful…but…"

Maurice paused and Ralph raised his eyebrows, encouraging him to continue. After a moment of silence, he grew impatient of waiting for a response.

"But what?"

"But I really think we just like each other."

Ralph squinted.

"How so?"

Embarrassment spread across Maurice's cheekbones in patches of red.

"…Like brothers, of course. What way did you think I meant? I already told you, we're not like _that_."

From the way he emphasized the last word, it was obvious that he was lying.

Ralph soon discovered there was still more to the mannerisms of the savages than what he'd learned from Maurice. It turned out that Jack's tribe steered their lingering displeasure on the sow below them. The need to grab and grope had been converted to malice that they inflicted upon the fat animal. They simply could not help it. And as far as Ralph was concerned, it had always been that way with them. They'd been aware of their feelings and engaged in the bloody therapy sessions since they'd arrived on the island. First, Roger had driven his spear into the rear of the pig. The following hunt, Harold had gone so far as to tear the ear of the animal off while it was still alive. The most recent one, however, had been the worst. Several boys had launched themselves at the pig and attempted to rip its limbs off its body, but only succeeded in dislocating its joints. They found reassurance, and in some cases, even sexual satisfaction from their sadistic behavior.

---

Once the parasite had achieved its first goal, it proceeded to deliver more toxins into Ralph's body. This time, it released a serum laced with inappropriate urges into his system. He often found himself looking at Jack, letting his eyes follow each sharp contour of his body. There were those broad shoulders, conditioned from the hunts, which lacked even the slightest slope. From there, his sturdy collarbone lead to a set of ribs that did not protrude like Ralph's (for he had grown very thin), but were concealed under layers of muscle. The fair boy's eyes usually lowered themselves to the outline of Jack's abdomen, distinctly marked by the sculpted stomach of an athlete. Occasionally, Ralph permitted his gaze to go even further until the thin blonde hair under Jack's navel became coarser and dark in a line towards his waistband. Ralph immediately fought the thoughts in his head and forced himself to look away. After all, he wasn't that desperate…was he?

For as long as he could remember, Ralph had always liked girls. He and his old mates back at school would waste hours talking about them. Heck, the fair boy even had a girlfriend for two whole weeks! However, her name escaped him, as well as how she acted around him. Was she sweet and kind? Did she laugh a lot? _Did any of those little quirks actually matter?_ Ralph realized that he truly didn't care about what kind of person Rebecca was, not at this point in time, anyway. What mattered were her hips, her shape, and the quality of her face. The respect he had once shown her dissolved: all the savage in him cared about was physicality. Being polite and chivalrous were limits of culture. Ralph desperately tried to ignore that fact, but his fear prevented it. He was drifting away from society's boundaries whether he wanted to or not. There _had_ to be some way to grasp back onto the rules he'd been raised to follow…


	2. Ralph's Surrender

…But the island did not offer an easy way out, and gradually, Ralph surrendered to the parasite. _Were all these mental debates worth it? Wouldn't it just be easier to let his terror take over and to live on adrenaline rather than logic?_ Rationality was unwelcome here; this had been proven by the death of Piggy. Natural man was not familiar with facts and common sense; natural man believed in what he saw with his eyes, not with his intellect or conscience. Reasoning and wisdom combined to form a language that only the civilized could understand. And the civil simply did not live on the island.

And if Ralph tried to be the chaste Catholic boy he'd been brought up as…_well, where would that get him?_ Certainly, Simon had been the perfect example of what purity was worth: nothing. The shock headed boy had been gentle and kind, and yet he was murdered. _Would Ralph's fate resemble his? _He might as well just accept his new primal sexuality rather than die for fighting against it.

---

Ralph had finally begun to embrace his curiosity towards his read-headed rival. He no longer forbade himself to look at him. He figured that without civilization frowning down upon his interest in Jack, he'd be just fine. Back in England, being like _that _(as Maurice liked to say) would get you broken ribs, black eyes, and someone sneering vulgarities in your face. But it was different here. Ralph doubted that the other boys would make rude remarks if they find out that he'd taken a liking to their chief. They had already reached a state of emotional chaos and must have at least reflected upon what it would be like to interact with one another. _How was this any different?_

---

Several days later, Samneric informed Ralph that Jack left their tribe at the end of every day so he could "clear his mind". The fair boy couldn't see what this had to do with his mental struggle until they dropped a hefty fact. The twins guaranteed him that their leader spent an hour at the rocks on the beach creating more friction between his hand and another appendage than with his conflicting thoughts. Ralph never considered the idea that Jack was pleasing himself, but he had decided to see if the brothers were telling the truth.

"How do you know he's not doing something else?"

The twins grinned at each other before turning to face their previous leader.

"He comes back…"

"…all tired and happy…"

"We hear him sometimes…he's…"

"…real loud…"

"…very loud. He definitely…"

"…enjoys himself."

"Bill said that he walked by…"

"…and saw Jack moving his hands…"

"…very fast…"

"…extremely fast…and he was panting…"

"What else could that be?"

The evidence was not enough. He was going to see for himself.

---

When the sun was on the brink of setting, the fair boy set off to spy on the painted leader. Humidity smothered the air and made his travel difficult, but his determination outweighed his perspiration and gasps for air. It took him a little less than half an hour to reach the beach where Samneric predicted Jack would be. Sure enough, he was there. Ralph was smitten. He retreated several feet into the edging forest to remain hidden from Jack's vision and watched with eager eyes.

However, ferventness got the better of Ralph and he found himself approaching the border of the forest. Before he knew it, the sparse ferns beneath his feet had apparently turned to sand. It took him a moment to recognize that he must be on the beach within Jack's sight before he darted back into the brush. Regardless of his attempted stealth, he made some noise upon his return, which the other boy obviously heard. Anxiety replaced Jack's assumed arousal and he whipped his head around to investigate his surroundings. Jack pushed away a few strands of hair away from his forehead, but they stubbornly hung over his brow like stiff ginger weeds.

"Hullo?" he called out, presumably ashamed that someone might know of his purpose. Ralph crouched down so that his chest was parallel with the earth and hoped his body was hidden by the thick undergrowth. The fair boy could not understand if he was shaking from fright or overpowering levels of hormones. Jack repeated himself loudly, but Ralph only responded with panicked breathing that was swallowed by the rhythm of the ocean. Still cautious, Jack strode into the shallow area of water in front of him, pretending to be engrossed with various fish and seashells. After five minutes had passed, he grew calm again and made his way to the rocks.

Ralph bit down on his thumbnail and began grinding his teeth against its surface in anticipation. It wasn't until a few moments later that he felt an aching in his jaw and discovered he had worried part of his nail down to the quick. He strained a small whimper in his throat and looked up at the canopy crowning his head with layers of green. He could do as Jack supposedly did, but what would that achieve? It was like trying to tickle yourself: laughing is impossible because you know that your own hand is behind the sensations. Ralph _needed_ someone else. _He needed Jack._

Rejection failed to cross his mind as he bounded up from his hiding spot. The parasite's venom had changed from what it used to be; his original fear had transformed into a raw sexual necessity. He scrambled up the rocks and sprinted towards Jack, neglecting the pain rising in his feet from the jagged surface of the large stones. Jack turned around, frightened, and before he could protest, Ralph flung himself down beside him and slammed his mouth against his. Ralph was ecstatic at the buzzing in his head and the delight of having someone else's lips adjacent to his. For two seconds, he was off the island, away from the horrors and dread it thrust upon him. For two seconds he was safe and alive and on top of the world. _For two seconds, he was free from the parasite_. And before he knew it, those two seconds were gone.

Jack shoved Ralph onto the ground and wiped his mouth furiously. He was breathless, speechless, and most of all, he was absolutely repelled. He stared with wide eyes at Ralph, who lay unmoving on the rocks. Ralph's mouth was open in confusion. He glanced over at where Jack had been sitting and gasped. Several sticks were scattered among the rocks, and a thin stream of smoke was rising from a bundle of them.

Samneric were _wrong_.

The movements he used to create fire must have _mimicked _masturbation.

_Fire… _

Jack had been trying to make fire.

He'd been trying to create a signal.

_He'd been trying to get them rescued._

"Jack…I thought…"

Ralph stuttered and scurried back a few inches in utter humiliation. He lowered his head and his chest heaved aggressively. Jack watched him weep, arms crossed, with no trace of compassion on his face. The air was quiet besides Ralph's awkward sobbing. _How foolish of him to think that Jack would have actually kissed him back._ _Jack was a boy and boys weren't supposed to like each other beyond friendship._ He'd made a mistake; his fear had pushed him here._ The parasite had just cost him his dignity._

Jack finally broke the silence with three words that lashed at Ralph's heart.

"_You thought wrong_."

---

**Author's note: Hey, everyone, I just wanted to introduce myself to the LOTF fanfic community. I'm Banisters, this is my second ****posted**** Lord of the Flies story, however, it was the first one I ****wrote****, so yeah. Any comments would be fantastic.**


End file.
